LAS VEGAS — Yes, yes the boxer Floyd Mayweather Jr. is now 44-0 and $32 million richer. That's no surprise. Before Saturday's welterweight championship fight he put on his yellow and black snake skin trunks and made his ring walk with Lil Wayne singing "No Worries" and promptly dominated his opponent by ducking punches and picking him apart after each daring escape. Robert Guerrero, facing him, was completely outsmarted, lost inside the mind maze of Mayweather, who would declare, "This is chess, not checkers."

And that's what it really is for him: His life is about deception. And there is something wrong about it — and why he is unloved even if he hasn't lost in 17 years and he is the best fighter in the world — because his life and times feels like a game of three-card monte. But it can't be denied that inside the ring Mayweather's mind games are three-minute acts of a unique, crazy genius. Of something that is underappreciated, and not always understood. Maybe you paid $69.95 to watch the fight, or maybe someone told you it was a boring one. No one kissed the canvas, sure, and the fight won't go down as a bloody classic. But watch it closely (the fight will be replayed on Showtime in the coming days), and you'll see Mayweather effing up someone with his mind.

In the early rounds he let Guerrero expend himself. Beating Mayweather has become an obsession and Mayweather's pre-fight trash talk is about creating highly-amped fighters. It predictably happens in every Mayweather bout — "every fighter comes in smoking. Pressure, and throw a lot of body punches" — and it's why Mayweather never fights anyone twice because maybe they will calm the hell down and think their way through the fight. So, of course, according to script, The Ghost bulldozed his way toward Mayweather. Clinching him, and punching his body with borderline legal shots, and gaining some false confidence. And he won the first round, and strutted to his corner. Su-c-ker. At Mayweather's last fight he had been hit a lot and so it looked like he was slowing down. So two months ago, behind closed doors, he worked on a plan. It was all about focusing on defense, getting back to what made him the greatest of this generation. He brought in his father, Floyd Sr., who believes boxing is about avoiding punishment uber alles. The old man told him. "We ain't gonna take no punches." His training camp had been incredible, insiders saying he looked awful the first few days and then became a different man, re-discovering his once-brilliant footwork and the artistry of avoiding being hit. So in the second round, Mayweather completely changed tactics. By the end of the second round, Guerrero was losing his confidence as his punches were mostly hitting air. Mayweather had set his defensive trap. He then started to execute his offensive strategy. Before the fight, his father told him, "I am gonna tell you what's going to get him: the right hand. The right hand all day." And so they began. He jabbed a little but most of the 195 punches that connected were various rights.

Middle Rounds

Reaching the middle rounds, Guerrero was becoming increasingly frustrated, the constant misses — he threw 581 punches, only connecting on 19 percent (113) of them — were starting to make him desperate. "He moved, he moved real good in the ring," said Guerrero, not accurately expressing how totally mystified he looked as the fight rolled on. Mayweather was ducking under every punch and then turning around and hitting him with a few darty shots from different angles. Guerrero tried to cut off the ring and force him into the ropes. Mayweather had expected as much and practiced how to turn the pressure into his advantage: He used the ropes as a way to give Guerrero false confidence and then turned him inside out. In the middle rounds, Mayweather injured his right hand. Floyd Sr. told him, "Now he worn down. It's time for you to go forward." So he went forward with that injured hand. But in the eighth round, Mayweather caught him with a shot to the left eye, blood spurted out of The Ghost, and then Money punished him with the constant rights. Mayweather had thrown such a variety of punches that Guerrero was mesmerized. "I can tell with experience that when I went to the body he was protecting himself. He was looking for the left hook so I was throwing the right hook." The right hook opens up a fighter to a counter so most boxers don't throw them in abundance. Mayweather could tell Guerrero wasn't used to seeing them, and the blood dripping into his eye didn't help him see anything from that side. Guerrero — a champion in four weight classes — wasn't capable of re-strategizing on the fly. Spittle was flying out of his mouth. His eye was bleeding. His father, who trains him, was extolling him in the corner, but it was obvious they were lost. Guerrero didn't know what part of his body to protect. He threw wild power punches, but he only landed 81 of them, none of them flush. And they left him open for more punishment. Mayweather stared at Guerrero, as they both walked to their corners, and his opponent's attitude — so cocky in the buildup — was now plain confusion and defeat. His wife, sitting ringside, was crying.

Mayweather was plotting for a knockout. He looked close to one. But by the tenth Round, Mayweather's right hand was starting to swell. Referring to his father-trainer he said, "I didn't want to tell him I hurt my hand." Guerrero's head snapped back a couple times, but Money couldn't finish him. So he used his footwork as his offense and defense. He looked 26, not 36. "I showed the world that I still have my legs," said Mayweather. Guerrero was missing so badly that at one point he missed and fell headfirst, the ropes keeping him up. And Mayweather looked like the best fighter in the world, and — love him or hate him — he is. And at the end of the fight, Guerrero raised his hands in victory and 15,000 people booed him. Maybe he was happy that it was over. "He was a little better than I thought," said Guerrero, seriously, and people laughed because it was a 12-round humiliation. The judges scored it 117-111.